#i love michael he makes me so sad
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trickquestionn · 30 days ago
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Thinking about michael shelley,,, after losing his friend to the literal embodiment of lies and mistrust, he turns to the insitute desperate to find answers. With that, he ends up as an assistant to the one person he should never have trusted, and he trusts her if only because he doesn't want to lose another person. He trusts her all the way until his death, right until he becomes the very thing that took his friend and is the embodiment of his final mistake
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bleue-flora · 4 months ago
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Michaelmcchill really asking the real questions about Dream and the Prison…
[clip] Sapnap: “He’s fucked up alright? He was my friend but he’s Fucked Up, okay? He wanted to control everyone.” Eryn:”Really?” Micheal: “So you do think he should be in there?” Sapnap: “Yes.” Michael: “For how long?”
[clip] (about Sapnap’s visit to prison) Michael: “But was he like shaking bars fucked up? Or like what?—Was he acting like a fucking monkey in the zoo, like trying to get the fuck out, or what?” Sapnap: “Like no this—look he went from being fucked up in terms of like—like him just being like a bad person to him being fucked up by being like he wouldn’t talk—like oh he—he was like—he got fucked up from being in prison so long. You know what I mean? There’s a difference between the two fucks up.” Michael: “Well if he got fucked up from being in prison then maybe he should be out?” Sapnap: “No, no, no, Micheal, you’ve got it all wrong. He needs to be in prison til he’s not fucked up either way. Once he’s just not fucked up and—” Michael: “Wait a minute, so the prison made him fucked up?” Sapnap: “No, no, no, he was fucked up, alright? And then he got a different kind of fucked up but he’s probably still the other fucked up as well. You get what I’m saying.” Michael: “I mean I get it he was fucked up before he went in but it seems like the prison has fucked him up even more.” Sapnap: “No—no, look he’s gonna get better.” Michael: “If he—if he’s your friend, wouldn’t you want to help him get better?”
[clip] Michael: “But maybe the prison can’t help him!” Sapnap: “Michael, you’re wrong.” Michael: “I’m—I’m just asking.” Sapnap: “Michael, he has to stay in there. If he comes out— Michael: “These aren’t necessarily my opinions I just don’t—I mean if he’s you friend—What if he needs therapy instead of the prison?”
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1-800-luvmail · 5 months ago
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✎ being friends with booster gold
"sooo... what are you reading anyways?" michael asks, taking a seat on the couch.
he's a professional personal space invader at this point— not like he realizes he's always sort of doing it around you. his shoulder presses into yours, blue eyes peering at the pages of your book.
it looks... well, interesting would be the nice description. the honest description in his eyes? that would be: long and tedious to read.
he wonders why you enjoy things like philosophy. or how things like this can get you on passionate (and occasionally very angry) spiels. he assumes it's the time period difference. an information era— big books, long rants, heated debates. your type of fun.
not like michael minds all that much. he personally loves to talk— so even if you don't really have the same topics floating around in your brain space, he totally gets it.
"kant." you reply simply, shifting a little to get some space away from the blond currently breathing down your neck as you try to enjoy what was supposed to be your free time.
he pauses, brow furrowing. for a moment, you perk up at his expression. he's thinking. hard. maybe he's familiar with it. or maybe he has an opinion on kant's theories—
"...why do you have the book then?"
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bloodcrosses · 21 days ago
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I want to again give my love to the Cillian fandom. ILY guys x
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skitskatdacat63 · 2 years ago
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2005 Hungarian Grand Prix - Kimi Räikkönen, Michael Schumacher & Ralf Schumacher(my personal post-race highlights)
+ bonus Renault boys
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itzchrissydoesstuff · 1 year ago
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Can we just take some time to appreciate these beautiful black and white pictures of Michael Jackson? ✨✨
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Idk why but he just looks so beautiful in black and white 😫 like, how is he so fine?!
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achillean-knight · 1 year ago
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JUST watched a video about the Afton's and I really love their British accents, but I've seen people dislike it so.... I'm curious. Reblogs or comments welcomed, I really want to know people's thoughts on this!
#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#Afton#the aftons#poll#I'll be honest I love them being british it feels intimidating and makes them unique amongst all the american accents.#I'm also notoriously known for liking British voice acting over American because rarities like the amazing work for the aftons and#final fantasy 16's whole bloody cast feel much more familiar and nicer to me. Probably because the amount of american accents I hear in....#EVERYTHING feels like it's a little too much all the time.#I'm not british but maybe it's because my accent (being australian) is very close to it that I feel more connected to characters with#foreign accents rather than American. Plus I love the evil Bri'ish stereotype.#About that actually I love how Wiliam doesn't SOUND like a cliche British villain. He sounds just like any other bloke and it's terrifying.#Michael having that british accent that was well executed and full of emotion added LAYERS to his character#and ELIZABETH oh my god I can't imagine her with an american accent.#It's so weird to me that there's a chance that they're going the American accent route with the Afton's after so many years of bri'ish.#Was the yelling in the trailer (I believe) for Security Breach actually Afton talking to Vanessa or something? MF sounds like Monty#I have nothing against the new VA for William I'm just very confused and actually genuinely sad at the loss of PJ being William :')#Correct me if I am wrong and that voice ISN'T william (I could see it being spring bonnies voice instead??? kinda like how Baby is american#but I'm afraid we'll loose the british Aftons WAAA#ALSO ADDING TO THIS#It's driving me nuts who was the british lady in Matpats timeline video#WHO WAS SHE AND WHERE CAN I FIND HER VOICE AGAIN (Was it in the VR tapes?? I'M SO CONFUSED)
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nomaishuttle · 1 year ago
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the two rules of sweeney todd cast recordjngs is 1. theyll never be better than 2012 london cast talk to the hand 2. theyll never be worse than 2005 broadway cast talk to the hand
#sry im literlly such a 2005 castrecording hater like im such a huge anti. i hate jt so baddd sounds like ass. they took the entire#orchestra out back and shot them dead leaving one piano player and.told him to judt make it work and then told sweeney that his entire#family died in a horrific fire immediately b4 he started rcording.#like im sorry ik sweeneys like a sad guys obvi i would be too yk sucks sucks Pooor thing better you should think she was dead yes i lied#cuz i looove you id be TWICE the wife she was i LOOOOOVE YOU HOW COULD THAT THING HAVE CARED FOR YOU LIKE ME !!!#anyways. but he just like. ik this sounds mena but his voice Sounds like a voice somebody would do to make fun of sweeney.#like it sounds like somebody mocking a mopey guy. but thats just the voice the guy uses 4 sweeney like..#also sry. im pretty sure the final scene lyrics they use in 2005 r the same as the original script from the 80s however. those lyrics just#dont flow as well ss the slightly edited version for the 2012.. like. hold on let me compare..#so the original Your Lucy!A crazy hag picking bones and rotten spuds out of alley ashcans!#Would you have wanted to know that she ended up like that?#whereas in 2012 its Your Lucy a mad hag. picking bones and rotten spuds out of dustbins#would you have wanted to know thats how she ended up ? and it just FLOWS BETTER SRYY.#ik its also partially bc most sweeney iterations r set. when sweeney is actually set where as 2012 sort of uses the framing devide of#disgruntled workers inn. i wanna say the 1920s? somewhere around there. which btw genius i love that devision.to draw parallels between the#working conditions of both time periods its quite genius babes. loveee to 2012 london cast recording. and it bangs far harder than those#other girls..#but like basically..imelda staunton if i ever get the opportunity i will genuinely give you 5billion dollars i dont think Aybody could ever#top her eprformance as mrs lovett. lifechanging. showstopping incredible#and michael balls sweeney is sooo good as well likee. he does such a good job balancing between like. i understand this guy. like i get him#i know his kotivationa and also This guy is fucking scary as hell#like he plays sweeney as far more like. Enraged than depressed. and i think it works RLY well for his interpretation of the character..#basically 🫰 <- thats for 2012 london cast. I wish that cast recording had all of the songs on its rly rather sickening.NO PIRELLIS MIRACLE#ELIXIR. LIKE IS IT A JOKEEEE DO YOU WANT ME DEAD ON THE STREETS? YOU SIR? ANYBIDY? GENTLEMEN NOW DONT BE SHY?#whatever. the one positive ill say for 2005 sweeney is that his performance. at times..is hysterical#i hate their version of final scene due to 2012 final scene being My favorite sweeney song. however. his like. Oh my god and also the judge#when he kills the judge and he says barker like hes powering up. he goes barkeeEEEEERRRRRR. whys that more acting than he did the entire#rest of the show. like its weird bc he was simultaneously over acting (as was the rest of the cast imo) and underacting ? like they were so#over dramatically sad that it looped back into them being completely flat and emotionless. its tly kind of impressive#but in fjnal scene when he goes OH NO !!!!! oh gOOOod. that was so funny
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boygirlctommy · 2 years ago
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watching this phantom boot for the second time today auaghhh
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thebestsetter · 7 months ago
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I love it when my husband has a bad day.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want to see him sad because things didn't go as planned during practice or that teammate of his was more annoying then usual. I just like the way he acts when he comes home to me after a bad day.
Some people shout and get angry. Other people isolate themselves to calm down after those (unavoidable) bad days. But not the man I promissed to love in sickness and health.
When he comes home, he doesn't say anything. He takes off his jacket and shoes as quick as possible and just throws himself at me. He then proceeds to nuzzle his head in my neck, still not saying a word, and, after he found the "perfect" position (which I know he did, cause he sighs and smiles when he does find it), he grabs my hand and puts it in hair, as if it's a silent plea for me to tangle my fingers through his locks and massage his scalp.
We spend hours like this. Just me and him bathing in each other's presence, without anything or anyone else to intervee. Sometimes, he even falls asleep, and I want to gush about how comfortable he is around me and yap about how cute he is while sleeping (even if he drools all over the bed most of the times). And then I concentrate on him and him only: his softened breath, his heart pace starting to slow down and those inconscious sounds he lets out when I caress the right spot.
I love to whisper to him about my day while passing my hand underneath his shirt, noticing the tension leaving his body and feeling each muscle he worked oh so hard to build. One time, I even joked about giving him a massage. He didn't deny it, so I think he wants one. He just doesn't know how to ask (we really need to work on this kind of communication).
I love my husband. And I love the domesticity and good moments his bad days provide: just me and him, showing our love for each other without needing to say anything.
ITOSHI RIN, ITOSHI SAE, Barou Shoei, Shidou Ryusei (hear me out on this one), Oliver Aiku, Michael Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Kunigami Rensuke, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Ushijima Wakatoshi, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, KOZUME KENMA, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji
~ A/N: This is heavly inspired by a reddit post I saw!! Apparently, the og post user is @ThrowawayEngland2022 on reddit. Make sure to follow them!!
Masterlist
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pixlokita · 1 year ago
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Painful wing fanart incoming but you already knew about it and colored it so like -w- hiding it for the gore and blood tho >>
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I feel like it was less gory in black and white but honestly 👀✨ aight don’t mind me I’m going to the tag now
BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!
Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!
Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.
But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?
Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.
It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.
“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”
“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.
“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”
“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”
“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“
“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”
“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”
“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”
“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.
Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”
“They just hurt. All the time.”
“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.
“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”
“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”
“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”
“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.
Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.
“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.
Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”
“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”
“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.
Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”
“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.
Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”
Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”
“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.
“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.
“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”
“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”
“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”
Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”
“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.
“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.
Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”
It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.
But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.
“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.
Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”
“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”
“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.
“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.
Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“
“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.
Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.
“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.
Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.
“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”
Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.
“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.
Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.
“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.
Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.
“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”
“It’s okay, Mike-“
Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.
“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.
“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.
A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.
“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”
Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.
Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”
“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.
“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.
“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.
“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”
“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.
“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”
That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”
Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’
“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.
“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.
It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.
Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”
“Maybe your uncle could help?”
“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.
Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.
“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.
“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”
Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”
“Help me up?” Michael asked.
Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”
“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.
“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.
“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.
“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”
Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”
“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”
“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”
“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.
“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”
Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”
“The blood.”
“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”
“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.
Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”
“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”
“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”
“Such as?”
“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”
“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.
“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.
“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.
He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.
Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”
Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”
Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”
“It seems as though I failed…”
“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.
Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.
“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.
Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.
“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.
“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”
Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”
“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.
“It’s no big deal…”
“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”
Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”
“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.
Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.
Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”
Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.
Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.
“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”
Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”
“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”
“Still…”
“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”
Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”
“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.
As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.
Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”
“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.
“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”
“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”
“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.
“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”
“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.
“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”
No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.
Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.
“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”
“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”
“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”
“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”
“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”
“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“
“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”
“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”
“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”
“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”
Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.
Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.
Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.
“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”
“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”
“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”
“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.
“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”
“So it’s bad.”
“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.
Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.
“Gregory-“
But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.
Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”
“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”
“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.
“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”
“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.
Michael���s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”
Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”
“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”
“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”
The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”
Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.
Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”
Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”
“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.
“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”
“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.
“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.
Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.
“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.
Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.
“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”
Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”
Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.
“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.
“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”
Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”
Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.
“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”
Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.
He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.
“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”
“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.
Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”
“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.
Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”
“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”
Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”
I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.
It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.
As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.
Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”
“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”
Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”
“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.
Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.
Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”
Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”
Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.
Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.
Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.
His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.
He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.
Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.
“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”
Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”
“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”
“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”
“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.
The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”
A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”
Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.
“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.
“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”
Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”
Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”
“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.
Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”
Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.
“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.
Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.
“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”
“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”
“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”
“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”
“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”
“Your motorcycle is cool though.”
Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”
“Can you take me on it sometime?”
The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”
Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”
“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“
“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”
“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.
“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”
Gregory flinched at that. “I…”
“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”
Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”
“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”
“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”
“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.
Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”
“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”
“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”
“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”
“It’s better than I remember.”
Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”
“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”
Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”
“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“
“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”
Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”
“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”
Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”
“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“
“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”
“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too!”
“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”
“A task?” Gregory asked.
“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”
“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”
“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”
“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“
“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”
“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.
“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.
“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”
“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”
Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.
“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”
He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”
“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”
“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”
“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”
“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.
When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.
“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”
“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.
“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”
“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“
“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”
“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”
“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”
Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”
“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”
“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.
What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.
When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”
Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”
“Better than a dry brush.”
Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.
Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.
“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.
“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.
Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”
“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”
“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”
“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.
“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”
“It’s nothing.”
“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”
Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.
Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.
“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.
Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.
“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.
“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.
“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.
Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”
“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”
“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”
“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.
Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”
“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.
“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”
“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”
“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”
“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”
“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”
“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.
“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.
Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“
“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”
“Still…”
“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”
Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”
“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.
“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.
“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.
“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”
“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”
“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.
“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”
“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”
“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”
“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.
“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”
Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.
“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.
“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”
“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.
“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”
“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”
“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.
When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.
“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.
“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.
“Oh, shut up.”
Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”
“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”
“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“
“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”
Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”
“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”
“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”
“We’ll see.”
Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”
“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”
Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.
“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”
“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”
“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.
Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.
Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”
“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”
Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.
Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”
“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”
“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”
Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”
Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”
“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”
Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.
They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.
“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.
Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”
“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.
“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”
“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”
Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”
Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.
“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.
He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.
“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”
Evan grinned, and so, the game began.
Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.
It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.
“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”
Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.
“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.
“Eight feels thicker than seven.”
“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.
“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”
“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.
“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”
“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”
“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”
They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.
Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.
“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.
The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.
“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.
Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.
“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.
“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”
“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.
“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”
“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”
“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.
“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”
Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”
He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.
“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.
“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”
“But why?”
“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”
“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”
“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.
“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.
“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”
“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.
Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.
“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”
“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”
“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”
Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”
Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.
Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”
“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”
“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.
“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”
“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.
“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.
“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.
“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”
“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”
“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”
“Yes please.”
“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.
Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.
“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”
“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.
Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”
Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”
All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”
“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.
“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”
“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.
Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”
Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.
“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.
“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”
Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.
“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.
Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”
Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”
The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.
Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.
He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.
It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.
Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.
“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.
“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.
“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.
Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”
Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”
The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.
Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.
Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.
Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.
“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.
“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.
“I can help him with it,” Michael said.
“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“
“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.
Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.
“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.
Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”
Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.
“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.
“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.
Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”
“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”
“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”
Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.
That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”
Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”
“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.
Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”
Henry frowned but he said nothing.
Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”
“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.
“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”
“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.
“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”
“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”
“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”
“Yeah, but-“
“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”
“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”
“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”
Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“
“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”
“I have?”
Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”
“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.
A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.
He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.
When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”
“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.
Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”
“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.
Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.
#cloud#fnaf#mild body horror#winged Gregory AU#first of all tumblr broke when i read thru this which was hilarious xD#AND YEAH I COUKDNT SLEEP WITHOUT READING IT AT LEAST ONCE#this honestly made my week go by so fast :v in a good way >> every time you sent the little pieces of it =w=#it’s so dang good ✨✨✨✨💖 there’s so much to love about it and hopefully tumblr let’s me go apeshit crazy in the tags pls pls pls#so first of all idk why but the moment you described the hairbrush having both Jeremy’s and mike’s hair mixed together it was ? idk why tha#just was so sweet like… idk man ? idk what that means it just feels deep and meaningful and I love it#uhhh Jeremy’s cocacola addiction xD and Gregory taking advantage of it gghghhh#Evan being good at games is also the best let him win always and forever please#the pasta also sounded so good =w= can’t even blame Gregory sometimes spice can’t stop you even when your body is screaming and on fire if#the food is too dang good >> may he rest in pieces 😔#ah dude now I see what you meant for that whole confrontation thing Michael really hurt him :c#he didn’t mean to imply that and he probably forgot about his situation but come onnnnn#he better go back and apologize or I’ll kick his ass personally >> I’ll kick it anyway how DARE you make your one and only son cry >:v#-w- he got his kiss but god at what cost#HGHGHGH#that’s fine it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine y’know what they’ll all have a sleep over they’ll get to talk and they will work thru this and ge#0 sleep because they’ll play more card games right after until 5 am … 6 am .#actually also loved that you hinted at Jeremy’s insecurities without having to explain too much about it the poor guy is having a hard time#specially in the 80’s hhh but it’s ok Jeremy you get cocacola and happy times 🥺 and awkward little kids interactions xD children are scary#Henry needs a break AGAHVSHS I JUST REALIZED WILLIAM JUST PROBABLY NOPED OUT OR DOESNT RVEN KNOW WHATS HAPPENING LMAOOOOO he’s too busy ig#doing his evil peepaw things and okay yeah fair just don’t be surprised when everyone in your fam is suddenly like supernatural#wing massage sounds kinda stressful I would be terrified to break a bone by accident then again?? how strong are these ones ?#maybe they’re not built like bird wings :0c well they are dangerous apparently >> which :> heck yeah 🫶#actually scratch what I said earlier they stay up all night because Michael can’t sleep with the wings twilight sparkle style 💀 no control#ughghgh still feeling sad for the little gremlin boy being hurt like that#oh woops reached the dang tag limit … take me to jail boys 😔 I loved this sm 💖
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secondbeatsongs · 2 years ago
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as a bi person, the bisexual flag brings me infinite joy and always puts a smile on my face, however as a person who has a Passion for Graphic Design, that undersaturated shade of purple infuriates me when it's used digitally
like, on an actual flag - which was its original purpose - it looks great!
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those look fine! lovely, even! with the semi-transparent fabric, the way it catches the sunlight, it looks beautiful!
but now look at how it looks digitally
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the pink and blue are so vibrant compared to the sad, lonely lavender!
and let's look at this statement from Michael Page, the creator of the bi flag:
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(sidenote: he created this flag in 1998, so if his takes on bisexuality is different from yours, it's okay to notice that! a lot has changed since the 90s when it comes to lived experiences and the way we describe them. but, it's also important to respect his thoughts about this and the way he presented them, even if today, we'd probably not say that bi people "blend unnoticeably into both the gay/lesbian and straight communities.")
so in pantone colors, the pink is 226 C, the blue is 286 C, and the purple of the flag is 258 C.
but...here's the deal
Michael talks here about how the key to understanding the symbolism is to know that the purple blends into both the pink and blue. and on a physical flag, I think you can see that!
but digitally, it absolutely does not blend. it clashes badly, and looks oddly separate from the other two colors.
which got me wondering...what purple do you get if you actually blend 226 C and 286 C?
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oh! oh, my god.
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look at that! look at how nicely it fits between those colors!
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look at it next to the original color scheme! look at how much more vibrant the purple is!
and friends. this is just blending through rgb! you get even more purple variations when you use other color spaces!
let's compare all of them:
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(top: original, lab. middle: lrgb, lch. bottom: rgb, hsl)
look at all of the different purple options you can get just by combining these two colors!
if you want almost too-vibrant saturation, you can go hsl, if you want something more relaxed that's closer to the original, you can go lab or lrgb. and if you want to split the difference, lch is bright and violet, while rgb is there with its saturated but darker purple.
anyway, I guess I don't really have a point here? this isn't so much an informational post as it is Me Getting Weird About Colors, but I think it is a useful lesson about how colors look very different on screens compared to how they look on objects in real life.
and sometimes, I think it's okay to compensate for that.
out of all of these, this is my favorite bi flag:
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it's the one where the colors were blended in lab color space. for me, the lighter, softer purple is close enough to the original bi flag purple, while also feeling like a smoother blend of the blue and pink
but that's just me! and it might not even look the same to you, since every screen is different, because technology is a nightmare!
anyway, thank you for coming with me on this colorful journey! I will now retreat back to inkscape and make pained sounds about inkstitch gradients until something tangible pulls me back into reality
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kaiser1ns · 1 month ago
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#. URGENT NONSENSE HOTLINE
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featuring 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei
fluff + slight suggestive. calling your cop boyfriend while he's in the middle of work, and he thinks it's super important, only for you to ask him the most ridiculous and random questions.
characters aged up to 21 and above. rin and shidou are fathers.
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ITOSHI SAE
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The police radio crackled in the background as Sae was sitting in his squad car, a rare moment of calm during his patrol. His phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with your name. It was unusual for you to call during his shift, so naturally, his heart skipped a beat hoping nothing happened to you.
He immediately answered, his tone calm. Your boyfriend was concerned more than anything, and if something was wrong, God forbid what was going to happen to the person who dared to hurt you. “What is it? Are you okay?”  
You, completely oblivious to his worries, immediately started talking cheerfully and giggling “Sae! Do you think dinosaurs should still exist? Wouldn’t it be awesome if they came back? Imagine us walking a T-Rex like a dog!”  
Sae blinked, deadpan. There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. You could almost hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process what you just said.  
“...Are you serious?” he finally asked, his voice dangerously calm. Oh, no. You're obsessed with dinosaurs again, and that wasn't good…at all.
“Of course I’m serious! Think about how cool it would be—like, riding a Triceratops to work or flying with a Pterodactyl!” you babbled on, completely oblivious to his growing annoyance.  
You couldn't see but your boyfriend rolled his eyes as he rubbed his temple, leaning back in his seat. His sharp tongue couldn’t be contained any longer.  
“You know they made Jurassic Park for that reason, right? And spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”  
“But that’s just a movie!” you argued. “We could make it work this time! Think of all the science we have now!”  
“You called me—while I’m working—to ask about dinosaurs,” Sae interrupted, his tone flat. “Dinosaurs. You’re aware I have actual, real-life problems to deal with… Like thefts and, you know, crime?”  
“...So is that a no on the dinosaur pets?” you teased, voice now full of sadness and disappointment.
He sighed, muttering under his breath in frustration but unable to help the small, begrudging smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I love you. Now hang up before I block your number.”  
As the call ended, he shook his head, muttering to himself, “Dinosaurs. Unbelievable.” Still, the thought of you having fun with what you will call your "pet" lingered in his mind for the rest of his shift—and he hated how it made him go to the nearest store to buy you a dinosaur plushie.
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MICHAEL KAISER
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Kaiser was in the middle of gearing up for an undercover mission, his shirt tossed over the back of a chair as he adjusted the strap of his tactical vest. When his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, he hesitated for just a moment before answering. Worry flickered in his eyes—it wasn’t often you called during his work hours unless it was important.
"Mein Schatz, what’s wrong?" he asked immediately, his voice laced with concern. 
You, however, had other plans. “My love, if I hypothetically steal something, would you be the one to handcuff me?”
There was a silence as an answer when he blinked, momentarily thrown off by the absurdity of the question. A smirk began to spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair, half-naked and amused. “Engel, you’ve already stolen something very valuable.”
Your eyes widened on the other end of the line. You stopped twirling your hair, your voice suddenly tinged with worry as though you'd accidentally committed grand theft without realizing it. “I… I did? What did I steal?” 
Kaiser chuckled, the kind of low, teasing laugh that made your cheeks heat up even through the phone. “Yeah, you already stole my heart.”
Your indignant sputtering was music to his ears. He leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table and grinning like the cocky devil he was. “And didn’t we test those handcuffs enough already?" he added, his smirk growing. "Remember last night? You were so curious if they were strong enough to hold you—"
“Goodbye, baby! Good luck with your work!” you interrupted, your voice high-pitched and flustered. 
Kaiser laughed out loud as you hung up, shaking his head in pure delight. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he muttered to himself, “You’re too cute, mein Liebling. Too cute.” With that, he pulled on his shirt, ready to finish work and show you what happens to those who steal and don't admit it.
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OLIVER AIKU
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Oliver Aiku, a tall, well-built figure with a teasing smirk and hundreds of charms, was leaning against the desk in the bustling precinct. Talking with his partner Sendou, they were deep in conversation about the latest case—nothing too serious, just the usual for the two of them.
The Captain’s voice echoed across the room, pulling him from the moment. "Aiku! You've got a call!"
Oliver rolled his eyes, not exactly thrilled to be disturbed right now in the middle of his break, but he stood up anyway, still chuckling at whatever Sendou had just said about the girl he was trying to woo over. He knew exactly who was calling. A sly smile crept across his face as he picked up the phone.
"Hey, babe. Everything okay?" he said in his usual teasing tone, his eyes never leaving Sendou’s curious gaze.
"Oliver! There's a giant spider on the wall!" Your voice came through the phone and you were more than afraid and before he could even process the words, there was a loud screech from your side of the line. "AH!"
He couldn’t help but smirk. "Girl problems, you know..." he muttered under his breath, shrugging it off, but Sendou was already looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? What’s going on?" his partner asked, clearly intrigued by the other’s business like always.
The tall man leaned back against the desk, casually placing the phone on his shoulder. "It’s my girlfriend, you know? She’s having a bit of a crisis over a spider or something. It's all good, no need to panic."
He could hear you, being out of breath, obviously running away from the spider. "Oliver! It’s huge! What do I do?!" He couldn't help but laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t care—he did, but come on, it was just a spider, you have seen bigger things.
"Doll," he said in a smooth, teasing voice, his grin widening. "Calm down. It's just a tiny lil' spider. I’m sure it’s probably scared of you."
He heard you scream again in the background, and he could already picture you manically pacing around, maybe already booking a plane ticket. “Just grab a slipper or something, take it down like the badass I know you are."
"I’M NOT GOING NEAR IT!" you shouted back, your voice full of distress. Oliver snickered, turning to Sendou, who was still waiting for an answer. "Listen to that. She’s on a whole new level of dramatic. Gotta love her."
He leaned into the phone, his tone turning low and flirtatious. "But, don’t worry, baby, when I get home, I’ll take care of that spider... and you, too."
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ITOSHI RIN
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It was supposed to be a quiet, ordinary day for one of the top detectives in the department. His desk was a mess of paperwork, and he was deep in the grind—cross-referencing statements, signing reports, and filling out forms. He hated the tedious parts of the job, but he was used to it. Nothing could disturb his focus; nothing but—
Vibration.
He glanced at his phone. Your name flashed on the screen. His first instinct was to ignore it, but a nagging thought held him back. You never called during work unless something was wrong. Still, with a sigh, he answered.
“Is it normal for Mommy to have blood on her stomach? Is my little brother a monster?”
Rin froze. His first reaction was to feel a pang of panic. Blood? His mind raced as he pictured the worst possible scenarios. He knew that voice—your child was watching too many horror movies again, getting himself all worked up.
“Calm down, okay? Where’s your mother?” Rin asked, trying not to sound too angry or demanding with asking questions, he knew how the suspects got away.
“She was in the kitchen and now she has red all over her stomach…” the child explained, sounding more frantic with each passing second.
Rin’s heart skipped a beat as he stood up from his desk, knocking papers to the floor. This can’t be happening, you were in danger and your child sounded more than scared. He needed to be back home immediately. “Stay where you are, do not move,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. Turned to his boss, not waiting for a response. “I need to leave. Now.”
Without waiting for permission, he bolted out the door.
His pulse was racing as he sped home, each second dragging on longer than the last. His thoughts were consumed with worry for you and the baby, a fear deeper than any threat he faced in his career. When he burst through the door and rushed to the kitchen, his breath hitched. He saw you—sleeping on the counter, exhausted, a slight stain of red near your stomach. His eyes widened. Was she hurt?
But there was no blood. No danger. Just the remnants of a cake you had been baking, and the food coloring had created the illusion of blood. You’d passed out from exhaustion, nothing more. Your husband sighed in relief, but he heard a small voice behind him.
“Is Mommy alive?”
Rin turned to find your child, wide-eyed and still nervous. The detective gently shook you awake, his hand soft and careful to avoid disturbing the baby to pop out any minute. You blinked groggily, confusion was written all over your face, but then— “The cake!” you exclaimed, ignoring the love of your life entirely. Of course, your priorities had always been… unique.
"Yeah, the cake," he muttered under his breath, trying to keep a straight face as he helped you sit up, ready to take the blame for your child's next internet ban with the horror media.
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SHIDOU RYUSEI
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Blasting music in the police car, sirens wailing, Shidou Ryusei chased down some random robbers, caught them, and hauled them to the station. He was a man of contradictions—a protector of the law who lived for thrills. Sure, he’d had a rough past and even served time as a teen, but hey, life’s full of surprises. One thing was certain, though: not everyone could claim you as their wife, his beautiful partner who was currently calling him for the sixth time.
“Pick up the damn phon—” Your annoyed voice hit his ears as he answered. Meanwhile, he was busy munching on candy he’d swiped from the twins earlier. “What’s up, babe?”
“Shidou Ryusei, are you out of your mind?” Uh-oh, here it came. Normally, your calls were filled with anecdotes about your day, theories about the universe, or updates about the twins’ shenanigans. This, however, sounded serious.
“Hello, my beautiful, amazing, angelic wife~” he drawled, mouth still full. He could practically see your angry, adorable expression through the phone.
“I’ll show you what IS amazing... Are you crazy?!”
“Always. Why even ask?” he teased.
“Why did you took the kids from kindergarten, witht he police car while blasting Gangnam style?” Oh, that. Well, you asked him to pick them up since you were running late, “What’s the problem? Elaborate, doll,”
“The problem?” you huffed through the line, voice rising as he heard someone laughing in the background, probably your kids enjoying your reactions as much as your husband did—some genes are pretty strong. “You traumatized every kid at the kindergarten! The teacher called me, Ryusei! The teacher! She said she’s never seen a police escort used so... recklessly!”
He was still chewing the candy he so kindly borrowed, only half-listening. “Reckless? Nah, that’s called style, babe. They’ll remember it forever. They should thank me for making their day cool.”
“Style?!” you screeched, and he almost felt bad. “Blasting Gangnam Style, sirens wailing, and you had the audacity to throw candy out the window like some... cop Santa?!”
Now he did laugh, the sound loud enough to echo around the block. Some of the people nearby on the street gave him curious looks, but he waved them off. “What? It’s called multitasking. Besides, the twins loved it. They told me I’m their hero. How can I say no to my kids, huh? Their words, not mine, by the way.”
You groaned and for a second, he thought you might hang up. “You’re insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. And stop eating the kids’ candy!”
Caught mid-chew, Shidou smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I swear, Ryusei, if you don—”
“Love you, babe!” he interrupted, his tone cheerful. “And the kids love me too. Don’t forget that part. Now, I gotta go, official police business calls. You know, saving the world, keeping our streets cool.”
“Ryusei—!”
Click.
He hung up, a chuckle escaping as he leaned forward, unwrapping another candy. Moments like these reminded him how much he adored you, his firecracker of a wife, and the twins' choice for sweet treats.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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amomentsescape · 1 year ago
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Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?
Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅
Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior
A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!
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Freddy Krueger
He knows you would never purposefully leave him
Like, he actually knows
His (undead) life revolves around sleep
He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world
So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs
He had already known you sleep walked
He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you
Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it
You're stuck in his world either way
Might as well see how far you'll go
He'll almost use this as a test of sorts
He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize
When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips
If it's not...
Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him
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Michael Myers
It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point
The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part
He doesn't trust easily
And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him
It didn't take long to find you
There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window
He's truly pissed
And a little hurt
He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation
But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head
You don't seem... right?
He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes
When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize
He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself
When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh
You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it
A sleepwalker, huh?
Sadly, the chains will need to come out again
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Jason Voorhees
You wouldn't actually leave him, right?
You seemed so caring
He actually believed you when you said you needed him
But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night
He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room
He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to
He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere
How could you do this to him?
When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason
He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him
You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him
And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you
You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty
You couldn't be that stupid anyways
You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that
So he just has to believe you
He loves you, and love means trust, right?
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Thomas Hewitt
But you were being so sweet to him just hours before
How could you lie to his face like that?
He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it
Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows
He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly
He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything
You just stare
You weren't acting like yourself
He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease
He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again
You can't leave anyways
The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are
You act just like your normal self the next day
And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare
He figures this just might be a thing you do
Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself
On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep
You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you
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Bubba Sawyer
He's quite literally blubbering to you
He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding
He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it
What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?
He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you
The next morning, he confronts you stressfully
You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about
But he refuses to believe you
(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)
He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you
You weren't stupid
Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?
His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"
So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?
He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want
He does his best to show you that he's sorry
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Brahms Heelshire
It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point
So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill
He loses it
Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground
This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically
When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away
You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in
He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that
It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again
And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again
But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch
He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be
But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there
This is odd
You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day
He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around
You just need to be extra attentive for a while...
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Norman Bates
Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking
(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)
When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again
However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on
He's surprised
He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker
He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea
Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it
When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage
Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day
He still gives you some freedom
But he's always watching
He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night
He has to, for your safety of course
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Billy Loomis
To be honest, you don't make it very far
Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper
The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully
Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him
His ability to trust is practically in the ground
The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you
Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed
He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat
He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that
Or did you?
Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade
Billy becomes very confused
He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction
You don't give him one
Are you still... asleep?
He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face
You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?
He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything
Just another thing he needs to look out for now
You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?
He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life
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Stu Macher
Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights
But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house
The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount
When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles
Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed
When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned
What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?
He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him
He'll likely talk to Billy about it
He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone
"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say
Stu does a bunch of research on it later
He doesn't really mind though
All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down
You aren't going anywhere
If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you
It's like a game, and Stu loves games
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cyberdbirdpersonsblog · 1 year ago
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My reaction to this information:
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Also my reaction:
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I didn't elaborate on it before because I was too busy freaking out about the fact I met Will, Rider, and Danielle in one night, but here's a summary of the really cool response Will had to being asked if Eric and Jack were in love at Pod Meets World Orlando:
Will basically said that he thought Eric never had gender or sexuality in mind when he loved. Eric is just a loving person. He mentioned how, if anyone came into Eric's life and stayed, he attached to them and loved them. Will thinks he loved Rachel at a point and that he loved Jack towards the end there, too. Eric was just a person that radiated love and cherished those who cared for him back.
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hedgehog-moss · 23 days ago
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Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏
Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.
• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:
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• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.
• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:
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• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.
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Also I love this review:
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• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)
The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .
• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...
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• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.
• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)
• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.
• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.
The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.
Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)
• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)
(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")
• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.
• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:
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• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."
• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:
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I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.
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